It seems I always have something on the tip of my tongue.

Tag Archives: fuck buddies

I had a private chat with chick on Twitter recently, and we spoke of men who’ve made rather over-the-top “requests” before first meetings with us.

Well, with her. I’ve never actually followed through with plans with any of those guys. But that’s how I roll. My Spidey senses are on the job 24/7.

I’ve been “dating” for forever. But, now and then, I toy with the idea of trying to find some simple, convenient, mostly-for-sex thingie with some worthy fella. It’s always a big fail, but I keep the search open.

Recently it involved chatting with a fellow that would’ve been remarkably convenient in the just-a-shag capacity, as he lived five blocks from my home. Continue reading →

I was asked a while back to address the issue of The Fuckable Friend. You’ve been friends for years. You tell each other everything. Now it seems like sex could be a fun indoor sport to play with each other. And hey, with winter coming on, don’t we all need more of those?

We’ve all had those friendships — the ones where innuendo comes up far too often for our comfort. But it’s just so darn fun, that innuendo.

I personally have always caused grief in my friendships that way. I really enjoy the toying, but it’s become a problem a few times in the past. It has never worked out, regardless of how great the sex was. (And it always was. Can’t beat “friend sex.”)

The important thing about fucking a friend is this: If it works, are you ready for a commitment?

Fact is, if the sex is on, the friendship is on, then you’ve got no excuse to avoid a commitment, have you? What a great predicament to be in… a fuckworthy friend you can tolerate in the morning. Stop the presses. Ride that ride a while and see where it takes you.

One of the wonderful things about having sex with a friend is that you’ll be able to laugh about it without having to apologize. You have that synergy where you’re both in on the joke. The thing that sex with a friend always tends to offer is the ability to have funandbe intimatesimultaneously while fucking.

“Yeah, but isn’t that what having sex is?” Well, most of the time, not really. How many of us can truly say we’ve been involved with our best friend? It’s a pretty rare experience. But sex with friends offers that rare look at true fun intimacy.

If you can get over how fucking weird it is to be schtupping your friend, that is.

Odds are, you’ve had all those great accidental “friend” moments. The bad burps, the stupid things said, the idiocy displayed, the utter humiliation, the total hurt. And it was always okay, easy to handle, ‘cos you were always just friends. It was voluntary.

Now, though… choice is the first thing to go. It becomes obligation, and that can be a real problem. You sit there and think, “Oh, I wouldn’t be that petty.” It ain’t petty, it’s human nature. Few of us are conditioned to like other people having any control over our lives. It’s asking a lot.

Let’s put this simply: It’s really, really, really hard finding good friends… And it’s so fucking easy to lose a lover… But loving a friend can be a truly awesome experience, and sometimes that’s worth the risk.

If you’re gonna take that risk, you need to be able to commit to ‘em if it works out. Otherwise, you’ll not only lose a lover, but a friend. Will I fuck a friend again? Current selection, no. But I wouldn’t rule the behaviour out in the future, either. Will not rule it out.

It’s always been fun, and the friends I’ve lost, well, one is regrettable. The others are still worth a smile. Good people, but expendable. Incredible sex.

There aren’t many friendships able to overcome a not-right-for-a-relationship, but-let’s-still-be-friends foray into fucking. Most of the ones that do try to resume the friendship will invariably realize how strange it has become after the sex. You don’t feel comfortable talking about crushes, you avoid movies with sex scenes in them, you get awkward talking about physical problems. It’s a lesser, less fulfilling version of your old relationship, fraught with stilted strangeness and abbreviated exchanges.

The few and the far between are in fact able to transcend all that shit and become stronger friends as a result of it. What lucky bastards.

Do you fuck your friend? Your call. Your gamble. If you secretly think, “I bet she’d still be fun in five years, and man, I never get sick of hanging around her…” then maybe sex might be the way to get something real started.

Or it might just be a great lay.

Just so long as you know the cost.

I’m sure that if I asked, my wonderful readers could share some of their experiences on the matter with you, as well. Have at ‘im, kids.

What should’ve been a six month relationship stretched into seven years because of ex-sex. Every time T. and I broke up (let’s just say it didn’t take a blue moon), we’d encounter each other socially since we ran in the same circles, and next thing you’d know, we’d be up against a private wall or back at his place.

For a time, maybe four or five weeks, it’d be incredible. We’d hook up at 10, 11, 12 at night and just do what we did, what we did so goddamned well, until I always invariably left him just before sunrise for my long drive home.

(God, I loved those sunrise home stretches. I still remember that spent but relaxed drive with quality alone time and music, hitting that curve in the highway where the sun would be rising behind Mount Baker, glimmering over the distant ocean.)

But then we’d somehow fall back into the pattern of passion and caring for each other, and next thing you know, we’d be “an item.”

Then it’d all start falling apart all over again. The deconstruction would never take more than three or four months, usually less.

The funny thing was, when it was just sex, we were more there for each other. We’d have these really passionate conversations before and after. We’d lay there on his roof under the stars and talk about anything from poetry and film to philosophy and science. We could really count on each other emotionally, even if only in conversation.

Then convention would enter the picture and we’d start measuring ourselves against this perceived idea of sex and romance, we’d start getting jealous or bitter towards each other, and we’d crumble with a vengeance.

“That” guy, in those four or five blissful weeks, was a guy I thought I could be with for decades. He’s one of the primary reasons I’m as articulate and well-written as I am. He was a huge influence on me intellectually, and those nights of lying in bed, climaxing, then conversing… I’m not sure I’ve ever had such a dually pleasurable experience. Getting off physically, then intellectually… that’s really unbeatable.

And that’s what ex-sex can offer: a pared-down version of a relationship, where all you’ve really got is the intimacy. With that intimacy, tends, in my experience, to come a kind of simplicity that often gets lost in everyday relationships. Once you step out of the narrow confinces of ex-sex, relationships get bogged down with mundanities that tend to incite conflict or apathy. It’s a shame, but that’s how it often works, since that’s usually what killed it the first time around.

I love ex-sex. I love how right that wrong always feels. So goddamned right.

Hell, I want a longterm boyfriend right now just so I can break up with him and then crawl right back. I wouldn’t be the only one crawlin’, I assure you. That prolonged denial followed by incredible satiating… Always a wonderful thing.

So, I’m wondering what your ex-sex experiences were. Come on. You know you’ve had ‘em. After all, there’s nothing quite like being surprised with the familiar. There’s something great about ex-sex, just like going home again. It’s warm, cozy, moist, and good, and you already know it’s a failure, so you don’t need to worry about perfection or how it shakes down the next day, right?

So tell me about your experiences. Emotionally, did you find it easier? Did it seem more honest, less forced? More detached? Meaningless, even? Intimate? Better than it was during peacetime? Were you hurt? Did you care? Was it fun? How did it reignite? Did they push for more? Did you get back together? How did it get complicated, and did that end it? And whatever else occurs to you.

About Steff

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